I’m not here to write a review on the establishment (just between you and me though the food was excellent), I was asked to capture some brunchy vibes on a Sunday morning so I set up shop (tripod) by the window, dropped the bokeh and once again became both enthralled and frustrated by what was happening in my camera.

DISCLAIMER: I am an idiot. A big, ridiculous idiot. As such I write little posts and draw little things to reinforce what I’ve learnt that day to aid my goldfish-like memory. The last thing I want to exude are wanker vibes (because I bloody hate self-righteous photographers) so if I sound like a horrible person, do let me know, otherwise these are notes for myself which I feel may be helpful to others rocking a camera within the Sydney food scene. MWA MWA and thank you.

When I first started taking food photos I used to do a lot of stupid things. I’d google map the venue the night before in a panic to check if any trees were obscuring the moneyshot out the front. I’d look up reviews to get a feel of the space then panic if the room was too small, too big, too wide or too narrow. I’d panic if there weren’t any spare tables to take a food shot. I’d panic about insufficient light so would place food as close to windows as possible. But here’s the most idiotic of all my amateur habits; I would panic about not having enough photos, or not looking busy enough, and would take the same photo of the same plate at the same angle at least 6 times. This is dumb for a couple of reasons; 1) only an fool does the same thing twice and expects a different result, and 2) spinning the plate around or moving a step the the left to mix it up a little can completely change the photo. It pays to stop and re-evaluate and for real pondering over a plate of pickled mushrooms with a camera in hand makes you look legitimately professional.

Light sources are many and varied and chances are you’ll be confronted by a number of different ones at your table. The Foley Lane challenge was to find the correct balance since I was shooting beside windows. On top of this I had the added annoyance of an indecisive sunny/overcast day, a major pain in the arse, so plates and settings were constantly being adjusted whenever an obnoxious cloud glided by the sun. Another challenge is that many of these plates were smattered with white food; ricotta of doom, mozzarella of death. White foods are hard to shoot. Do not get me started. They are testament to the fact shooting at the same angle with the sun does nothing to flatter said dish (this is just a personal philosophy here) so shoot at an angle to score some sweet shadows for definition. Here’s an example of how shuffling things around and ever so slightly changing your angle can make for a much better photo; all I did was swap the mushrooms and fried green tomatoes, moved a coffee and crouched a little lower.

But the most important thing is to keep calm and carry on (and don’t take the same photo 6 times). You can’t go wrong with background greenery. Be alert but not alarmed when white food is involved. Blurred hands and cutlery give that ~rustic, human touch~ if you’re into that sort of thing. Take photos of all the dogs. There might just be an enormous Bloody Mary waiting for you when you’re finished.

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As bloggers we are content creators, we make neat stuff whether it be photos, drawings or pieces of insightful writing to entertain and/or educate the internet masses. If we have a corner of the internet we have a responsibility to represent ourselves in entirety; creatively, emotionally, whatever. We push the boundaries of what we know and enjoy and create new and exciting things to share. In turn we are inspired by what others do. An honest blog is a beautiful outlet of nice sentiments and hard work. Personally, my benchmark of a good post is one that disregards all the trends and basks in the sweet glow of straight up originality (if there even is such a thing).

However.

This weekend something took hold of me. A terrible monster. Like the devil’s grip I was thrown into the shallow abyss of kawaii cake trends. On Friday night I was up at 2am gluing small triangles onto striped twine and you know what? I felt so alive… like I was patting a pack of pugs whilst simultaneously poaching an egg for brunch. I made ombré cakes, I stacked them high and got rustic with a Wilton #125 tip. Pink. Chocolate. Strawberries. Ruffles (kinda). Bunting. Is this how God feels (on one of his more leisurely days)? Can I put a bird on it? These are my dirty kicks. I was possessed by a beautiful twee monster all in the name of creating a nice birthday cake for my friend Julie. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIE!

Basically what I’m trying to say is sometimes I cannot resist the warm, comforting yet disgusting lure of a good dessert trend. Ombré + bunting. It’s Etsy crack, it’s twee porn. But it’s ok (sometimes), or at least that’s what I’m trying to convince myself. I did not choose the Etsy life, the Etsy life chose me.

I named this a “Neapolitan Cake” mostly for the wank, however, upon actually tasting the combination of vanilla cake, chocolate ganache/buttercream, strawberry swiss meringue buttercream and slices of fresh strawberries together the cake really did emulate flavours of a straight up ghetto tub of Neapolitan ice cream. So good. One of my favourite cakes to date. In fact, pastry chef Felicia said it best when she confided “I know exactly what’s in this icing yet I can’t stop eating it”.

Because I so often keep it real I don’t have any staged “slicing of the cake” photos, instead I have some unglamorous shots as it was divided between the 12 of us at a restaurant in Glebe. In true (new?) alanabread style I’ve illustrated how to construct this tower of twee (no recipe this time but send me an email if you’d like some assistance on that front). Otherwise just stack it, dirty ice it then slater it (maybe stab it with bunting if you’re ready to embrace twee).

Also (not even an attempt at a suave segue here), I was recently informed alanabread was not only nominated but is a finalist in the Voices of 2013 blog awards! So thank you so, so very much to everyone who nominated me and of course to the judges, I really appreciate the recognition. Congratulations to all my blogging peers also, you can find the list of finalists here. But, I digress (sneaky tear), here are some cake related pixels. Good luck and enjoy!

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…aka the Three Cheese Delight aka Cheeses of My People Tart aka Baby Don’t Kiss Me. It’s the Ottolenghi recipe so good even Martha Stewart is onto it. C’mon, let’s get quaint with this caramelised garlic tart.

My friend Andrew hosted a potluck birthday party this weekend (HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANDREW!) and this was my contribution. This tart is my first recipe cooked blind (no pastry pun); I’m on a diet due to some near startling health news (nothing serious but from what I recall the doc said my veins were clogged with pure Nutella and I must be cleansed) so I’m keeping to a strict diet for a few weeks/months/who know until I’m better and possibly more attractive-er. With a blindfold wrapped firmly around my tastebuds held together only by fickle willpower I was unable to indulge in the stinky delights of this tart however my friends said it was nice and the minuscule lick I enjoyed over dinner seemed balanced, so, good times? This tart heats up really well too; I prepared it the day before the party and warmed it in the oven at Andrew’s place for around 10 minutes before serving.

The three cheeses of my people element comprises of feta, haloumi and kefalograviera (possibly my fav cheese of all time) to form the cheesey holy trinity of my ethnic background. If you don’t have access to this fabulous array try using one bitey, one mild and one… whatever the heck you like. Or just whack some goats cheese in there, oldschool. Keep it to around 240g and try to include both soft and firm cheeses.

Caramelised Garlic + Three Cheese Tart
(adapted from Ottolenghi)
2 sheets puff pastry
2 large heads of purple garlic, cloves peeled
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
220ml water
1 tbsp caster sugar
1 tsp chopped rosemary
1 tsp chopped thyme, plus a few whole sprigs to finish
100g Bulgarian feta
80g haloumi, grated or roughly chopped
80g kefalograviera or kefalotyri, roughly chopped
2 eggs
200ml cream
Salt and pepper

1. Preheat oven to 180°C. Line a round tart tin with puff pastry and refrigerate for 20 minutes. Once chilled blind bake in the oven for 20 minutes being sure to weigh down the case with pie weights (or in my case some beans). Remove weights and bake for another 10 minutes until begin to golden.
2. Blanch garlic by boiling the cloves for 3 minutes. Strain well, return pan to heat and add olive oil. Once hot add the garlic cloves and fry for a couple of minutes. Add balsamic vinegar and water and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the sugar, rosemary, thyme and a pinch of salt and continue to simmer until the liquid has almost entirely evaporated (around 10 minutes).
3. To assemble the tart sprinkle haloumi at the bottom of the tart case followed by the kefalograviera then crumble the feta on top. Arrange caramelised garlic cloves over the cheese. Whisk the eggs and cream with some salt and pepper and gently pour over the tart. Season with cracked pepper and sprinkle with thyme leaves.
4. Reduce heat to 160°C and return tart to oven for around 45 minutes or until the top is golden and set. Remove from tart tin and serve with a whole sprig of thyme to garnish.

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As always the experience is doing my simple head in (in the best possible way) and with a job like this it’s difficult not to learn something new each day. Photography of this nature is not simply a case of pressing a button before a nicely presented plate (though I’m not denying a higher, more colourful dish is easier to shoot); it’s problem solving and adapting to the space, it’s finding where the light lays and learning how to use it to your advantage. If it sucks you need to manipulate, if it’s not there you need to create it. It’s easy in this day and age define a photographer simply by somebody who owns a camera and the better the camera the better the photo therefore the better the photographer BUT a long shutter speed or bokeh explosion won’t always make a good photo. You can own the fanciest camera with the biggest sensor on the most stable tripod but that won’t help either. Food photography is small and finicky so it’s difficult to hide any mistakes. All very obvious in theory but I sometimes forget these things in the moment, camera in hand, being caught in almost torrential rain with a big, ugly ute obscuring my dream angle (true story from the other week).

So, if there’s one thing I’ve leant these past few weeks it’s that circumstances may vary and you gotta deal with that. Again, very obvious, but I’m forgetful and this sentiment isn’t always at the forefront of my mind as it should be.

Epiphanies aside it’s been really nice walking around Sydney meeting wonderful people and occasionally trying their excellent food. Here are some photos from the past few weeks.

Chicken skewers @ Shortgrain

Daily salads @ Arthur Street Kitchen

Cheese + pico quesadilla @ Beach Burrito

Beef brisket sandwich @ The Sandwich Shop

RivaReno Gelato, Darlinghurst

Jafe Jaffles Kombi

The Bourbon, Kings Cross

Roast pork panini @ La Macelleria

Margarita pizza @ Gourmet Slice

Crispy quail @ Miss Chu

Chicago style hotdog @ Bishop Sessa

St Peters Summer Garden + Urban Farm

Lemonia, Annandale

If you’d like to see the photo sets and articles in their entirety please visit the below…
RivaReno: From Italy to Darlinghurst
Top 10 Eats under $10 in Bondi
Toasty: Jaffles are Making a Comeback
The Bourbon Bar Rises Again
An Urban Farm in Sydney Park
Lemonia Cafe
Top 10 Eats under $10 in Surry Hills

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I’m keeping it honest + simple today (actually I’m anxiously hovering over the publish button because my photos are crazy casual, oh my gosh) with a few photos illustrating one of my favourite dishes at a child; salt dough chicken. My mum only prepared the dish a few times but the spectacle of taking a chisel to a dough-encrusted bird was enough to retain those happy, tasty memories until today. Did anybody see those nerdburgers on #mkr prepare their salt-crusted trout? I’m pretty sure they were doing it wrong; this is how to do it right. The Women’s Weekly Cooking Class Cookbook taught me how. It states… “This is one of the renowned dishes of the Orient.”

*tugs collar*, yikes. Well, to pay homage to, um, “the Orient” as well as retaining my delicate Australian-wog sensibilities I’ve prepared the chicken by shoving lemon and rosemary up its arse then brushing the bird with kecap manis (can be substituted with soy sauce and sugar). Wrap your beloved chook in foil and salt dough and bake for four hours. It’s like cooking a chicken inside an oven inside an oven inside an oven (inception chook). Crack open your make-shift oven for a meal of melting-off-the-bone chicken. Delicious, noble, comforting bird; you’re the best.

The other day my mum said something very interesting; “why has ‘communal eating’ become such a fad lately? It’s like all of a sudden people decided it’s nice to eat together”. NICE ONE MUM. I lack the eye for refined plating as dishes upon dishes, complete with mismatched tongs, served in the centre of the table for all to enjoy has been the norm for as long as I can remember. Individual plates with perfect towers of food were never commonplace in my upbringing and this chicken dish respects this mentality by being so deliciously ugly it cannot possibly be transformed into a fine dining work-of-art. Do your best to transfer it out of the salt dough (that sucker’s gonna crumble) and let everybody dive in and grab their favourite piece. It’s how we’re meant to enjoy food.

Since this dinner was made for my family last night the luxury of taking my time with staged photos was nonexistent with a hungry audience present; as aforementioned here are some honest (read: dodgy) snaps from a tasty dinner in the Dimou household. Recipe follows after the jpg assault.

Salt Dough Chicken
(based on Beggar’s Chicken from the Women’s Weekly Cooking Class Cookbook)

1 whole chicken
1 lemon
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
2 sprigs rosemary
3 tbs kecap manis
Salt
Olive oil

Salt dough
1.5kg salt
6 cups plain flour
2 1/2 cups water

1. Pre-heat oven to 250°C. Combine all salt dough ingredients and knead until dough comes together and set aside.
2. Prepare baking tray with parchment paper and aluminium foil (or both to be safe like I did). Quarter lemon and onion, roughly crush garlic and place in cavity of the chicken. Brush with kecap manis and sprinkle with salt. Place chicken on foil that’s been brushed with olive oil and wrap tightly in a couple of layers. Roll out salt dough, one half at a time, and wrap the foiled chicken. Wet your fingertips to smooth over and fill any gaps.
3. Bake in the oven for one hour, turn down heat to 170°C and bake for another 3 hours.
4. Remove from oven. With a chisel and hammer gently tap away at the salt dough until you’re able to carefully extract the chicken (warning: SUPER HOT). Place on serving platter and enjoy.

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Happy 26th Birthday to me. YIKES.

I’m constantly saying birthdays are the most important time of the year; it’s a time that reminds us of the importance for being grateful for the wonderful friends we keep, it brings everybody together. This year I’ve felt too unemployed, too useless and therefore too undeserving to even begin contemplating the fine art of celebration for myself (the only happiness I see is the bottom of ice cream tubs) and it’s unfortunate that such a happy occasion should fall on such an awkward time in my life. But, thanks to some encouraging family and friends we partied nice this weekend and it was good.

Such a terrifying number (twenty six, say it with me now) amplified by my post graduate and job seeking status warranted the creation of a delightful cake screaming of age denial. Welcome to my life, banana split cake; banana cake with a dulce de leche filling covered in yellow buttercream, chocolate glaze, honeyed cashews, 100s and 1000s, faux ice cream buttercream scoops in neapolitan colours and even more nuts, sprinkles, cherries and wafers. If your cake doesn’t scream “DIABETES” then you’re doing something wrong. This is an ode, no, a blaring symphony to my cake philosophy; FONDANT NEVER, BUTTERCREAM FOREVER. It’s my legacy instilled in sugar.

For a cake that began as a humble sketch pictured above it seemed apt to illustrate the procedure for creating this buttery wonder instead of documenting via photos and I assure you the lack of fancy cross-section photos has nothing to do with the eternal struggle between gin brain and camera/knife wielding after blowing out the candles. Guys, did I make an idiot out of myself when I made that speech… ? RIP me. Death by embarrassment.

The banana cake recipe was taken from a classic Women’s Weekly book (my mum used to make it all the time (~FAMILY HISTORY~)) and the dulce de leche filling was made by slow-cooking condensed milk in a bain-marie with a pinch of salt (too scared to boil dat can).

Beautiful, flourishing emotions aside, here’s how to decorate it; you’ll need two 9 inch rounds of cake, a filling of your choice (optional), lots of buttercream, food colouring (I find gel is best), crushed nuts, sprinkles / 100s and 1000s, chocolate, cream and glucose / corn syrup. It will make any 26 year old cry with happy tears or at the very least gently ease them into the final year of their “mid 20s”. There is no such thing as age appropriate when it comes to cake.

… twenty… six.

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DID YOU KNOW? Ice cream melts. The recommended storage temperature of this frozen treat is around -20° and is best served straight from the freezer. If left at room temperature for more than a few moments it will return to its liquid state. SCIENCE.

I’ve recently been reading The Food Stylist’s Handbook and, amongst the pages of wonderful lies of tall burgers hinged on unseen scaffolding and hidden blow-torches and paint brushes behind closed sets, lies this sentence:

“… fake ice cream is basically just powdered sugar and a solid fat of some sort… some stylists add corn syrup… your [fake] ice cream should have the texture of pastry dough of Play-Doh.”

Cream at Sassafras very kindly sent a jar of saffron + pear figlettes to play with, little did I know developing an ice cream recipe in conjunction with these little gems would send me into a melty spiral questioning the integrity of ice cream photography.

Here’s a thing some people don’t realise when gazing into a publication; when taking food photos the reality is ice cream melts. My personal reality is; I have no assistance and am often balancing on one leg to both take a photo and manoeuvre a reflector. My reality is; I have an incredibly small space to work with and even smaller backgrounds and surfaces. My reality is; by the time I stage the shoot, scoop the ice cream, position it properly, drizzle some syrup, clean my sticky hands and resume position behind the camera quick-as-a-flash (hehe pun) everything has already begun to topple. The texture of commercial ice cream we are so used to is lost in a matter of seconds; time is the nemesis of those who work alone, at least in this instance.

While I’m at it here’s absolutely everything there is to tell about these photos. The background is the back of a couch in the living room, the table is (I believe) an IKEA Lak I bought for $2 from The Bower; originally an offensive orange I painted it white but since the paint has begun to peel I’ve intentionally scratched it up for more character. I don’t have a macro lens; these were taken on my 85mm meaning I had to take a fair few steps back which, in turn, meant capturing areas outside of the table and background (couch). I wanted to keep my camera at f/2.8 (ish) for a bokeh explosion of shimmering pewter in the background however working with lights in a small space means they couldn’t be pushed back any further. The ice cream is sitting in what I can only describe as rusty canisters or filters I bought from Reverse Garbage ($1 for 10 of them as I remember), as were the pieces of fabric. The utensils in the background were purchased as part of my display at the COFA Annual late last year and that stein has been perched, untouched, on my coffee table in my bedroom ever since.

So, I became fed up with what ice cream should look like in the real world since I don’t operate in a real studio and decided to keep it as honest as possible. I stacked it high and watched it burn (melt) to the ground (restored IKEA table) and enjoyed it for a perverse thirty seconds. Hahahahaaa! I’m so zany I just don’t know what to do with myself. Some people rage at photoshopped images of women in magazines while I’m raging at faked ice cream.

Onto the recipe itself; the goat curd ice cream is a little different but great, probably not to everybody’s taste especially if they’re not into goats cheese. Don’t serve it by the bowlfull but instead as a course inbetweener or generous taster. It works perfectly with the figlettes and its syrup, though they’re definitely not essential. It’s not entirely sweet; just resounding flavours of goaty cheese and honey. It probably even warrants a quinelle. Whack it beside a soufflé and bask in the fanciness of it all.

Goat Curd + Honey Ice Cream
(an original recipe)

200g fresh goat curd (I used Meredith Dairy)
300ml cream
250ml milk
3 egg yolks
60ml (1/4 cup) honey
Tsp of salt
1 tbs sugar
1 vanilla bean
Jar of figlettes (optional)

1. Combine cream with goats curd until lumps are removed. In another bowl beat egg yolk with sugar.
2. In a saucepan heat milk, honey and split vanilla bean over low-medium heat until hot. Stir into egg yolk mixture slowly to temper then return to heat for a few minutes, whisking constantly until it begins to thicken like a custard.
3. Strain mixture into cream and goats curd mixture and stir well until combined. Place in fridge to chill and later churn as per your ice cream maker’s instructions. Serve with figlettes if you have any handy.

See the mess this stuff makes?! The concept of imperfection-as-perfection is far from revolutionary but goshdarnit melted ice cream is cool as heck. Cool and real.

And speaking of keeping it real, thanks again to Esme, Mark and Laura at Cream for the figlettes and please check out their online store or in person if you’re around the Dandenong area. My brief soap box moment of the day: supporting small businesses is very, very important; if you’re not already on that bandwagon get on it immediately, please!

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What do you get when you cross the mentalities of Vietnamese green mango, Greek pan-fried eggplant and a Thai dressing? This happy conglomerate of a salad.

When living in Newtown I frequently endured sad days of having very little food, however, if there was ever an eggplant in the house there was always a meal. Versatile, robust, damn good. It’s saved my hungry butt on many occasions; a symbol of hope and prosperity in financially dark times. My eggplant repertoire is vast and beautiful.

My friend Andrew graced my humble, ethnic hands with some green mangoes and some of his mum’s homemade chili salt the other day after I was banging on about how great it was eating it all the time in Bangkok (get a load of this white guy over here) so to pay tribute to my classic whatever’s in the fridge plus eggplant style of cooking I combined the two. Apologies to all of the traditional dishes that just got owned by my bastardised cooking but I promise it really is fresh and nice and all of those good things. This serves 2 or more mash-up hungry friends.

Eggplant + Green Mango Salad
(an original recipe)
1 eggplant, diced
1 green mango
2 tbs sesame seeds
3 tbs sesame oil

Dressing
1 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs sesame oil
1 tsp fish sauce
Juice of 1/2 lime
Pinch of sugar
Pinch of chili salt (optional)

1. Peel the green mango and slice into thin strips. Alternatively if you have one of those cool graters that does the job for you, use that. Place in fridge to cool.
2 Heat sesame oil in a large pan on high heat. Add eggplant and continue to toss until nicely browned and tender (around 5-10 minutes). Add some extra oil if required.
3. In a smaller pan lightly toast sesame seeds until browned slightly. Transfer into a bowl to cool.
4. Combine all dressing ingredients to taste. In a bowl toss eggplant, sliced mango and half of the sesame seeds. Add dressing to taste, toss and transfer to plate. Garnish with remaining sesame seeds.

With eggplant comes great responsibility versatility. Never forget.

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Multiracial life is an interesting one. People on the street sometimes speak to me in languages I don’t understand and my dual appearance often has me feeling uncomfortable in my own, somewhat tanned skin as I fit neither here nor there. Back in the old MySpace days I found their “nationality” profile section insufficient. In Japan I was mistaken for being French and in France I was mistaken for being Italian. I was paid out for having a big nose as a child but these days I’m complimented on my coveted, high cheekbones. The symbol of a watermelon as a prelude for party-times is ingrained in every thread of my being and the number of times sweet old gentlemen have approached me with “YOU GRIK GAHL?” is a relentless joy, both a blessing and a curse.

My amazing plan this week was to document both sides of my family, The Egyptians and The Cypriots, and how their Christmas celebrations draw exciting parallels despite their geographic difference; food served in loved Bessemer, lunch of both traditional and modern dishes, watermelon. When I first began this blog my intention was to highlight my colourful ethnic background illustrating these sorts of get-togethers but in almost one-and-a-half years nothing of the sort ever eventuated. Until now. My amazing plan fell short of amazing as I hadn’t factored in the amazing food coma element. Cameras and food, man. My eye for symmetry blurred significantly under the weight of BBQ lamb, chicken, duck, molokhia, fresh seafood, ham, kashk, stuffed tomato, my Teta’s famous crème caramel and more (I feel heavy). But I tried. I tried and then I fell asleep on a couch somewhere. I think my brother summed it up best in an instagram post simply captioned Dat wog lunch :’). Oh well, better luck next year.

I wish you all the best time this holiday season, enjoy your time off, enjoy time with your friends and family and I’ll see you all in the new year with some new recipe posts.

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